solid congealed masses of fat sit
balloons filling within joints
stagnant extremities feel as if they are solidifying
the man becoming a statue; a watcher
here lies a perfect specimen of 21st (and in the latter half to a third) a  20th century man seated before the primary means of oral, aural and visual communication.  Oral pertaining to the man's ability to only speak of it and the programmes displayed on it . . . .  .
as still as the brain is telling them to be
as still as the brain wants them to be
it doesn't want to be left out you see, feels secluded when dormant
alongside a healthy, active set of limbs and torso
so it persuades them ever so gently to become as lazy as he
so he feels more at home in his body; the brain he lords over the body tyrannically and purposefully.


Extraneous effort can be avoided, in all manners of life; whilst sitting, whilst working, whilst running.  Being properly lazy has to do with how little you can do without doing something else.  It is possible to run at a speed that does not cease to be running but it is not walking.  You can sit only so still before you are asleep.  Being properly lazy is being able to sit precariously on this line so perfectly you don't slip backwards or forwards into a useful action or being in the top percentile of the new lesser action which you are in essence, lording over physically.  An extremely intelligent man can be extremely lazy in an activity that would take a long concentrated effort from another less intelligent man, but in essence, he is really just avoiding falling asleep.

Laziness can be misappropriated; attributed to men who are not lazy at all.  A man at the enth of any discipline could not be considered lazy; the same could be said about a man at the enth of his ability.  We speak of course in terms of natural ability.  Actions achieved in ones current capability; carried out without carrying on other efforts to cavort himself into a higher category of actions (a laziness compared to ability graph could be constructed/plotted and then correlated if one could be bothered).  Of course, it goes without saying that the achievance of these goals necessary to propel or descend a man into the new upper or lower segment of before described laziness are in turn harder or easier to achieve depending on the man's predetermined stature; position in life even, considering we are talking of afflictions that affect a man and not a boy, and therefore we are assuming that the formative years are not thus (formative) and are but a compulsory precursor, a cross that every man must bear; not a development that pertains to the quantity of laziness he possesses.

with a sea of unachieved tasks/goals laid out before him he resides to sit patiently waiting for something to happen in front of him, sometimes clicking a mouse, sometimes a remote
sometimes he is angry that he is boring
sometimes he calls a friend to be angry at the boxes with him
sometimes he feels sick that he is a *******
sometimes he laughs at people on the boxes who are pieces of ****
but most of the time he is a ******* happily, content that he is at least part of a healthy digestive system, whether he is the result/byproduct of, or the action that produced the **** in the first place.

A bee whistles past his ear
He feels the sound . . he doesn’t care
Averts his eyes in case there’s others
Raises his hands to fix his hair

Divorced from reality somewhat: from feeling.
Or at least extremes of:
Never exceeding amounts unfeasible:
Pertaining to the limits thereof:
Plateaued at governable levels in present:
Exempt from enth
Kept in check
His whistle wet & he’s well fed

Real words strewn along the ground
Discarded leaves fallen
Left decaying: mostly forgotten

His pants look to him pantaloons
For the good they do representing him
the man chases an end necessary; resenting
not waning, he feigns stoicism
then his creeping cynicism clouds his eyes

‘u know what buddy, u can honestly get ******’ he says ‘the 1st world cries the loudest; but is softest.  Thinks it is toughest; it is weakest, smoothest, creamiest.’
‘u know what buddy u are honestly right’ he says to himself not wanting to admit to himself that he agrees with himself,
but despite this all, his gaze’s focus still lowers
the edges become softer
& he does what he does

he wraps up in his blanky
with his bottle; safe under cover
among some big ******* to feel warm
but the swarm of bees they circle
twitching fever; rippling waves

hope to god that they don’t sting you
as u hide & feel their sway
lapping closer swooping hawk like
collective wind; they rearrange

and then

they push left !swoop! they raise u up,
( a cloud of black and brown and yellow arches and hums, hums like a razor on steroids, seeping potent purpose, pushing, coming: close your eyes for impending hell)
leaving bumps that swell and burn, they grab, they encase, they consume, they drive, they raise and they push
and they deliver u
and u obey them
and u relinquish; u fold enslaved
they push u forward  !the buzz! it wakes
it makes u groan,
u can’t ignore it
u know u need it
u’ve got to do it
u need to go


toil on & reap the spoils
another set with the walking beige

go here go there: be happy
u have no reason to not this day
just keep on going, mate my mate
lulling deep into the beige

Caught in the middle
the centre septre stream
... genesis;  a moment the tendency for an object to twist, aligning in congruence with memory cells or a harbour memory cell hub a channel is created.  

So thought - forms can relive themselves time after time
I read an anthropological script one time and it suggested that we are souls if not stars or orbs of lights stuck in a single episode of a drama that is cosmic
So God, His Wife and their Son/s are reliving themselves through time and space ever expanding to find order
In retrospect that would explain why Showbiz is so big
For the First Fruits long for their story to be portrayed so to find justice, freedom and order
So then here I am, having incarnated for the enth time

In this world they rarely raise souls
a boy is raised to be a man
a man to serve the Man or to pay for the debts of the other man
normally to replace his Father or right the wrongs of his forefather
so there you have it, a script is ready for you to act out and your opinion is yet to matter as a soul


And Gaia suffering from the pains of the past and she grew cold, evil and bitter; worse than her perpetrators
then the middle you see Thor and his dysfunction and thence comes Lucifer and he contends with his father and seeks to oppress mother to take over the galaxies
hmmm and Him Thor in the thin of the divide
in the brink of chaos
assigned to create order

Earth then, working and cleaning out the emotional scars and mistakes of past - lives
incarnating again and again until we raise our consciousness to Higher Dimemsions
So we look to heroes you see to motivate our vision
You  contend as a gladiator and the Powers will reward you as far as your success makes them comfortable and no further
It is a danger to stand up to the gods and confess that you serve God
So maybe a nobel prize you get when you're older and you've sold so much of yourself in the process
Your victory over problems and exhibitions or sporty knockouts intimidate those who are assumed to be the limit
so this makes them insecure
these problems started before our parents and grandparents Im sure
Lands we fight and commodities we strive for only to have a say about the Word
the word that flowed through sound as it fused with light
So who with clear audibility to decipher the root code?
Her earrings Pandora we'd search for
His Heart Artola we'd contest for
Her beauty Hirana we'd aspire to behold as we become grand

The glitch in her consciousness or the filling of the void creates a monster that is a vacuum for the hollow negative consuming dark light changing names Alycza to Cleopatra but what happened to her best mantra Callia
And we live in the play
affected if not convicted of her hurt
so we long to heal


And the union again takes us to the  unnoticed spaces of creation
half the time we feel marooned
yes it is the fusion completing HAROON So we understand time better and reach RAJUN
A place of the utter Integration
Love
Happiness
Divinity
Peace
Eternity

So many roles in the middle I tell you there are many things with which you wouldn't want to fiddle
Excuse the so's; this is not a riddle
a puzzle we'd fit so pieces we do not belittle to conjoin the twigs and winds to find a fig we'd rig to our humane config.

And disease release, pains appease so we please the free and each soul turns on their stellar switch
After war, soldiers we have died so many times
I have tried to resign too many times only to be assigned
Exits I've tried as I was entirely tired
but soon darkness was fired and the good hired so our psyche was wired and the psychics reeling their powers
a new kind of life
life never. feeling sorry for a person
why do we feel sorry for ourselves
seen my father's tears so many times no more emotional games could be played
boom; the wake "I don't want to be in the muck and mire of evil anymore but a process of admission and confession awaits before I can experience cathartic filth induction"
So guilt free the freedom-seekers.so they can forgive and be forgiven
for do we know for sure how much time we've been given
many exist, those standing virtuous long have they been living
Can we live to seize the moment of deep sleep in a state lucid free from the matrix
and please not enriching the chemist; this can be done without psychedelics
Uniforms bossing hasn't this been the battle of shem to drug tossing so we can be one like tether Higher - dimension flossing
getting nearer to the Divine Source, how is meditation and prayer for glossing?
So costumes - they give us flesh, this animal and that to Adam a bone to string to sand, beat and wing
a flying structure human being
or humans being
what a fashion show for genetic engineers
And stars we remember
once we escape the material and return to the ether

the middle; you experience the in-between
the good and the bad
peace and war
love and lust
lies and truth
virtue and vice
greed and generosity
satiation and addiction
theft and earning
possession and sharing
Burning and cooling
destruction and creation
I am tired before my time.

Large figures chasing you with soft noises,
                                                       for voices,
     long fingers reaching as your short legs,
  and little feet run and your laughter begs,
                                                         for more.

The heart pounds
     as you run laughing.

          Growling faces chase each other in this place,
  of sport where points count and effort on your face,
on each combatants face, explain the pain of the pace,
all for a ball without mercy or grace, to give up
                                                              ­         a disgrace.

The heart pounds
    as you run to do battle.

You see that person for the first time, or the tenth time,
                                              you
hope, you will see them over and over for the enth time,
your eyes meet and            
                                             you
                                                         fall harmlessly into the
drumming sound, that suddenly got louder in your chest.


The heart pounds
                  as you.. .. race toward.. .. each other.

A small cry, tears to your eyes
more to life than meets the eye,
more pairs of hands and feet,
         your family is complete.

The hearts pound
   as you two live out creation.
                             And dreams.

Alone, with walls chalk white and no feeling,
     watch sticky flies move and paint peeling,
the only visitors are lost in the colour of the walls,
                                         you
hear voices so familiar, distant echoes down halls.
Then they are gone, all is unwelcome and strange again.

The heart pounds
      irregular growing weaker,
                                                  like your resolve.

                Still, the heart pounds, catching on every
                                         hope,
                                                  you ever had.

©ClemC082013

Eccentricity Isn’t Craziness, It’s Daring

Eccentricity isn ‘t craziness, it’s daring
To the -enth degree:
A caring not what they decree,
Not caring what they think of me.
The unconventional disarming,
Often charming -
What is normal?
Living life like all the rest,
I guess accepting colorlessness.

Planets are eccentric
And the sun’s just doing fine.
It shines on planetary quirks,              
Sustains the quirk so that it works.  
So,
We too can be a sun;
No planet going round,
No moon, but one
Unusual, bright son-of-a gun                            
Who does his ‘thing’ because it is
The only thing that makes things run,
The only thing that makes life fun

The misfit may not be a genius,
May be middling or bizarre.
Having said that, I give honor
To the one who does his thing
Since he sees through
The illusion, the delusion, the chimère .            
Eccentricity Isn’t Craziness…9.3.2015 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; revised/ 9.30.2018 Arlene Nover Corwin

no closing the eyes
no looking to the left and right
no more no territory

yes it's clear
yes to no fear
yes to eating steer

no to the enth degree
no to uncivil society
no to not being a you and me

yes to no monopoly
yes to no decree
yes to no tom-foolery

Coping

The lord of boredom is the mind.
If you can’t find
This bond with mind,
You’ll always seek external aid:
Stimulation from outside.
And with no inner guide
One cannot help but slide
Into displeasure which
No pleasure can assuage.

To cope is not to mope
But increase in one’s scope;
Enduring to the -enth degree.
Enthusiastically adapting the whole time
Through silk or slime,
Change bringing hope
If you can only cope.

What type are you?
The basically dissatisfied,
Always looking for a lot, lot more?
Unhappy, filled with pain, aggrieved?
Reaching, searching for the truth,
Your youth again?
Passive, extrovert, submissive?
Angry maybe, and aggressive?
Do you think it’s all a lie, conspiracy and bluff?
The easy explanation not an ‘if’ but ‘is’  - and stiff;

Qualities of character inept,
Or ones to fix or plain accept;
If knowing who you are’s the aim,
Then play the game.
The start:
To know components of the heart.

Coping 3.28.2021 Circling round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Note: “to know is also to know that you don’t know” - Kent Anderson

I was thinking about all the misinformation that we walk around with in our heads, taking it as truth.  ideas are in your head.  
     I’m sure I wrote this phrase somewhere before, but I’ve no idea where, in what form or what and how I said it.  So I’ll start again.

        Ideas Are In Your Head

Ideas are in your head.
Where else?
You think your thoughts,
Which thoughts are ultimately forced,
The force produced by you alone:
Your tendencies, your latencies
Your genes, your DNA - in short,
Your very own creations,
The perception never what you think.

Objectivity? No matter how we try,
Improbable, implausible  because of “I”.
No matter what the truth,
No matter what the source:
Encyclopaedic, Wikiped…
Accepted to the -enth degree;
It does’t matter.
You, interpreter of all that courses
Concentratedly or scattered.

What is idea, after all?
Purpose; porous* understanding;
Wish, belief, a supposition;
Mental picture, theory,  
Feeling, fancy…

Any drive that drives you
Forms within your head.
Recognise this fact instead of
Taking what you think as sacred.
You’ll become more undiminished, interested
And open-minded.  Guaranteed!

Ideas Are In Your Head 5.4.2020 The Processes: Creative;Thinking; Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin
*porous; poetic licence